


the streets are empty where we used to run

by thelyssymarie



Series: shadows settle on the place that you left [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Coda, Episode Tag, Evil Theo, M/M, Manipulative Theo, Multi, Pre-Slash, Stiles is not okay, Stiles-centric, Stream of Consciousness, Texting, for like all of 5A
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 05:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5404643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelyssymarie/pseuds/thelyssymarie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>what would you do if a new beta showed up at a weirdly convenient time and asked to join your pack?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I wouldn’t trust him.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>--</p><p>Stiles stays in contact with Derek through the events of season 5A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the streets are empty where we used to run

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't mean to write this it just kind of poured out of me.  
> Oops.
> 
> This fic is written in a sort of experimental style for me, so heads up for possibly excessive use of commas and parentheses.
> 
> (Note: The stalia and the steo are only briefly touched on, and the steo is explicitly _not romantic_ so don't read this if that's what you're looking for.)
> 
> title from the song time by mikky ekko

He doesn’t even mean to do it, the first time it happens. He’s just frustrated with himself, with Scott, with everyone if he’s being completely honest. He feels trapped; he can’t shake the feeling in his gut, the feeling of unease and distrust every time Theo is around. He knows that Theo is up to something, something bad, something that has the potential to rip apart everything in their lives, but he’s too good; the proof is there, but so shaky, so flimsy, so easy to disregard. 

But it _is_ there. Stiles can see it, and he trusts his gut; when has it ever been wrong? 

But Scott doesn’t believe him. He trusts too easily, and though Stiles loves him for his willingness to see the good in everyone, it isn’t realistic. It isn’t safe. Scott’s bleeding heart is going to get them all killed one day, and there is nothing Stiles can do to stop it. He has done the same thing, trusted people despite all evidence to the contrary, time and time again, and it always ends badly for them. It had happened with Matt. With Jennifer. And now Theo. 

Stiles needs someone to believe him this time, to trust him (not even his father trusts him, his _father_ ) or he is going to shake apart from the inside out.

_what would you do if a new beta showed up at a weirdly convenient time and asked to join your pack?_

He doesn’t get a reply. Of course not. Derek probably doesn’t even have cell service where he is. Wherever he is. It’s not like he had given them a forwarding address when he left. For all he knows, Derek has changed his number. Stiles knows that he isn’t with Braeden anymore, although he doesn’t know why, but beyond that, Derek could be in Timbuktu for all he knew.

He forgets about the message. His moment of weakness takes the back-burner to all the shit that’s going down. It isn’t until his phone goes off in the middle of class the next day that he even remembers he’d sent it. He debates whether to open it now or to wait until later. Theo sits behind him in this class. He’ll pick up on any change in heart rate or chemo signals that Stiles gives off in response to what it says. Stiles is sure that Theo already noticed the momentary jump in his pulse when he had seen the name on his lock screen. In the end, curiosity wins out; if Derek isn’t with him on this, he has no idea what he’ll do.

_I wouldn’t trust him._

The wave of relief that sweeps through him is overwhelming. He isn’t alone in this. Finally, someone agrees with him, someone who won’t write off his suspicions as paranoia. He sags down into his chair. Theo sits up straighter. He’s noticed. Of course he has, Stiles isn't exactly subtle in his relief; he’s sure he’s broadcasting it to the whole room. Stiles doesn’t care (he does), with someone on his side now he isn’t as afraid (he is), he can finally relax (he can’t). Stiles knows Theo will ask him about it later, part of his act, part of his plan to trick them into thinking he cares, but he’ll just brush it off. _My father just closed a big case he’d been worried about. I passed my first Stat test. It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it._

_i dont but scott does. he wont listen to me_

He isn’t expecting an immediate reply, but moments later his phone buzzes again. Behind him Theo shifts innocently in his seat.

_What about the others?_

He fires off a response, fingers flying across the screen.

_theyre warming up to him pretty quickly. i have proof enough to doubt him but they dont think its solid. hes good at playing them. he knows all the right buttons to press_

( _including mine_ )

The next reply is almost instantaneous.

_Don’t let your guard down. Keep looking for anything that might point towards something being off about him. I can do some digging if you want._

Stiles lets out a breath. So Derek really is trusting him on this. He’s even offering to help. He glances back at Theo out of the corner of his eye. He’s facing the front of the room, but is clearly not focusing on the lecture. Listening then, trying to figure out what has Stiles so relaxed (he hasn’t been this relaxed since Theo arrived).

_thatd be really great actually. hes going by theo raeken. says he was in fourth grade with me and scott but i dont think hes the same guy. blond hair blue eyes looks like hes maybe 18. his eyes are yellow when he shifts_

_I’ll look into it._

Stiles can recognize a dismissal when he sees one, and he shoves his phone back into his pocket. Maybe he _can_ get them through this. Even if none of his friends believe him, even if they think he’s going crazy, as long as he has someone, has Derek, he might be able to figure Theo out before everything falls apart.

~

The texts don’t stop. 

He keeps Derek updated on what’s going on in Beacon Hills. He tells him about Donovan, how he disappeared, how he wants his dad dead; about Tracy, how she thought she was dreaming, how she broke through mountain ash, how Malia says she was killed by men in masks.

(Stiles doesn’t know if he should believe her, but he figures that he of all people should know better than to ignore something like this)

Derek tells him about what he’s found. No one has heard of Theo Raeken, or chimeras for that matter. Everything is still an unknown. Stiles doesn’t like unknowns. Neither does Derek.

He learns that Derek is traveling the world—that’s how he was able to talk to so many people, ask about Theo, ask for Stiles. He’s been keeping in touch with Braeden; she updates him with what she finds on the desert wolf. It’s not much, but Malia doesn’t seem to mind. Stiles can’t tell if she just doesn’t want to know or if she’s decided to move on. He hasn’t been able to read her as much lately. 

He supposes that’s his own fault. He’s been distracted lately, distracted by Theo, by the chimeras, by Derek. He doesn’t regret it, not really; he cares about Malia, he really does, but it’s hard to be open with people when they think you’re delusional, that you’re paranoid, that you have trust issues (damn right he has trust issues; have you seen their lives? his “trust issues” have saved their asses more often than not) and it’s even harder when you have to protect them all from their own willful ignorance. Protecting his friends will always come first, even if that means he has to lose parts of them in the process. Alive and distant is infinitely preferable to dead and _at least I know what she got on her last math test!_

Every now and then, Derek will send a picture. Mostly, they’re of whatever place he’s in at that particular moment; a beach he stopped at before leaving Mexico, the open plains of the midwest, a dingy diner in New York. 

(Derek stays in New York for a long time. Stiles thinks it reminds him of home, of family. Of Laura.)

Sometimes he’ll get a picture with Derek in it. On one memorable occasion there was a selfie (an honest to god _selfie_ , and doesn’t that make Stiles laugh for the first time in weeks), Derek in front of the Eiffel tower, not smiling (Derek doesn’t smile) but not looking like he wants to tear the thing down in a fit of sourwolf aggression. 

Later that day, a slow, lazy Sunday, what feels like the calm before the storm to Stiles, comes a second picture: Jackson and Isaac sitting at a cafe table, Jackson with a pretentious latte in hand, Isaac wearing his typical scarf, a pretty light blue that brings out his eyes. They’re not looking at the camera (trust Derek to take creepy candid photos); the hand not gripping his coffee is pointed in Isaac’s face, trademark sneer plastered across Jackson’s face. Isaac looks like he’s considering the merits of pouring his lemonade into Jackson’s lap. But there’s no heat behind their expressions, not really, and Stiles thinks that they almost look like friends. He tells Derek as much, albeit with a much healthier dose of skepticism and sarcasm.

_Isaac and Chris stopped over in London when they first came to France to tell Jackson about Allison. Jackson insists that he doesn’t care about him, but apparently he takes the train over the channel every couple of weeks to visit Isaac._

_seriously?? i never thought id see the day that jackson cared about someone other than himself_

_He cared about Lydia._

Stiles snorts. 

_its physically impossible not to be at least a little in love with lydia_

The following text is a pleasant surprise.

_hey tell derek he needs 2 stay here!! i need someone 2 balance out jacksons assholeishness! ~isaac_

He feels himself grin. Isaac seems happy. He’s glad; they’d had a brief glimpse of Isaac coming out of his shell and working past his trauma, but when he’d left, after Allison (and _God_ , what Stiles would give for her, for Erica, for Boyd, to be there with them, happy in Europe, free from all of this and _alive_ ), he had been a broken shell. 

_if he does that the three of you will decimate the continent with the combined force of your attitudes_

_classy as ever, stilinski. -J_

_you know you miss me whittemore_

Derek must have rescued his phone from the two betas, because the next text is back to being typed in perfect grammar; punctuation, capitals, and all.

_Isaac just wants me to stay so he can make a group chat and call it #EuroSquad._

(Stiles hasn’t laughed this hard in months)

He sends pictures back of course. Derek gets countless photos of the ever changing and evolving board in Stiles’ bedroom, of the increasing amount of duct tape under the hood of Stiles’ jeep. Derek sends back input, tips on what to focus on, a loose part that he noticed to the left of the engine. Stiles knows that his pictures aren’t as interesting, are depressing more often than not, only somewhat grim on a good day, but Derek keeps sending his own back, like the imbalance of the exchange doesn’t bother him. It makes his chest feel a little less tight, knowing that Derek cares, that he’s willing to share so much of his life with him even though he can’t do the same, can’t reciprocate the way he wishes he could.

There’s one picture that Stiles loves most, that he immediately saved as Derek’s contact picture so he could see it whenever he texted. It was taken the week that Derek had visited Cora, and Stiles knows that she was the one to send it (Derek would never send something like that, an uncontrolled photo of himself). It’s the both of them, Derek grinning, Cora’s face mashed against his so it looks like she’s winking at the camera. It’s blurry around the edges, like she had taken it without warning.

(Stiles has never seen anything so wonderful)

~

Not everything is all sun filled, far away places, family close by and the joy of running through the woods as a new, free creature, not for Stiles. Life in Beacon Hills is quickly becoming a living hell. He’s losing control of the situation, losing his friends, losing his mind, and he can only do so much, only fix so much. He can see it crashing down around him with each new day, and each new heroic and helpful thing Theo does. Stiles still doesn’t trust him, but it’s getting harder and harder for the others not to.

( _Theo, good job on that tourniquet. You probably saved her life._ )

And then Stiles doesn’t have time to think about Theo, doesn’t have time to think about anything, because he just killed someone, he killed _Donovan_ , dropped a pole through his chest and oh god he can feel the world cracking open and shattering around him. He can’t stop shaking; his chest is so tight he feels like there is no air in his lungs and the body is gone, it’s _gone_ and he doesn’t know what to do and Scott is calling and _he can’t stop shaking he has to stop shaking_.

Someone is stealing the bodies, because _of fucking course they are_ , and Stiles can’t even think about what that means for him. 

(He leaves a voicemail on Derek’s phone. _I killed someone. I killed Donovan and Scott can never know and I don’t know what to do._ )

~

He takes off the next day at school, claims a stomach bug and stays home. He wants to ignore the world, ignore his friends and their problems and their lives, just for a day, (just one day, is that too much to ask?), but he can’t protect them if he doesn’t know what’s going on, so he listens to Malia when she calls him, looks up T.R. McCammon, reports his lack of any findings, and prepares to go to Eichen House when Scott calls about Valack. His arm still burns where Donovan had grabbed him, where his hand had bit him, but he pushes the pain aside. He has to protect them, has to protect Lydia. He has to keep going as if nothing is wrong.

He thinks he manages it pretty well, all things considered. There are moments where he thinks he’s caught, small slip ups, close calls that back him into a corner, force him to lie, to Lydia ( _Happened to see any lost souls, Mr. Stilinski?_ ), to his father ( _You're uncharacteristically quiet_ ), to Malia ( _What did you do to your shoulder?_ ), and he hates it, _hates_ it, but he doesn’t know what else to do. No one thinks Donovan is dead, and Stiles doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad for him in the long run, but no one has any reason to suspect that Stiles has killed him, killed _anyone_ , so he keeps quiet and tries to focus on the Dread Doctors and the other chimeras. 

(Derek tells him it was self defense, that if it came to it Stiles wouldn’t be in trouble, but when Stiles decides to lay low he gets it, because once upon a time, three years ago, he was in the same position, hiding from the law for a death that wasn’t his fault. Derek doesn’t question his choice and for that he is grateful.)

~

He sees the start of the crash a few days later, and it feels like ice has been pumped through his veins, the heavy knot that has made its home in the pit of his stomach expanding to crush his lungs in his chest. Everything hits him in quick succession; his memory coming back, his mother, terrified of him, of _him_ , and _no_ , no no no, he didn’t _want_ to remember this, _please_ _no, Mom **please**_ and then there’s a chimera on top of him, then there’s Theo and blood and the chimera is dead and Theo is asking him not to tell anyone, _and_ _why the hell wouldn’t he tell anyone—_

"Because I never said anything about Donovan."

And his world shudders to a halt in a heartbeat.

~

_he knows_

_whatever he has planned is starting. i can feel it_

_and i dont know if ill be able to stop it_

_(im scared)_

~

He can see it now, the way Theo plays them all, fits into their cracks and crevices, fills up the empty spaces in their lives, the gaps left behind or that have yet to be closed. All the things lacking in their lives, Theo becomes, earns their respect and their trust by changing himself to be what they need. Scott finally has a willing and loyal beta, one who isn’t angry about the bite or torn between two packs. Lydia has another helper, someone to look for clues, someone who’s not a paranoid, hyperactive kid still coming down from an obsessive crush. Kira is no longer alone in protecting Scott; Theo is experienced and powerful, so much better than a weak human with a baseball bat, a girl with death whispering in her ears, and a werewolf who still can’t control his shift. Malia has a friend, something that she’s struggled to make coming back into the real world, one who is comfortable around her, trusts her with his life when she doesn’t even trust herself. 

Stiles is missing a lot of things in his life right now; the faith of his friends, a clear conscience, clean hands, the answers to all their problems. But the most tangible, the easiest role to fill, is one that’s not actually completely gone.

Stiles misses Derek, and Theo knows it. Stiles can see it in every move he makes. It’s Theo shoving him against the fence on the hospital roof, it’s sitting in the Jeep arguing while waiting to exact a plan, it’s the ever powerful werewolf protecting the defenseless human from yet another supernatural threat. 

But Theo can’t quite get it right. 

Derek’s absence is everywhere, a void that had once been filled with bickering and thinly veiled concern and a silent trust that can only come from saving your reluctant partner in crime’s life a dozen times over, and he can see how Theo is trying to fill it, mimic the rapport he and Derek had, but it's not the same, it's a twisted version of what they were and Stiles hates it. He hates Theo. He hates that despite the twisted, blackened shadow of Derek that Theo is trying to be, Stiles still sometimes finds himself falling into familiar patterns, finds his eyes lingering too long in places they shouldn't, should never be, finds his pulse jumping at inopportune moments, body reacting one way while his mind _screams_ that it’s wrong, it’s not the same, it’s not _him_.

( _You don’t trust me. I don’t trust you. But you need me to survive, which is why you are not letting me go._ ) 

( _Even if you don’t trust me, even if you don’t like me, I’m still going to be looking out for you._ )

Theo’s problem is that he’s trying too hard. He’s trying to be Derek and everything that he wasn’t. He claims to trust Stiles unconditionally, is unflinchingly kind in the face of Stiles’ scorn where Derek would have snapped back, he _tries_ , tries to be friendly with him, to be easy. Derek never tried. It just happened, evolved over the span of several years. In the beginning, neither of them would have lost any sleep if the other had died. And even then, even after, Stiles had never felt like they were friends. Something, but not that. Never that.

He tells Derek these things (not all of these things) and Derek thinks that it’s ridiculous. 

_As if anyone could replicate us._

Stiles agrees.

~

(There are some things that Stiles never tells Derek, things that go unspoken between words, texts that are typed and then deleted. _I miss you. I need you. Nothing is the same without you. I’m afraid I’m losing my mind. I'm afraid they're all going to leave me. Why did you leave me?_ )

~

Everything starts to disintegrate. His friends are distancing themselves, keeping him out of the action, and it’s getting harder and harder to cover up his involvement at the library that night. His father seems to lose what little bit of trust he has left each time they speak; he won’t let Stiles stay to catch the body snatcher, he asks Stiles about his keycard, and _oh shit his keycard_ , and that’s one more lie added to Stiles’ ever growing list. 

Parrish manages to steal the body, and of course there’s no apology, no _you were right Stiles, we should have been ready, we should have listened_ but at least now they know who it is, and he and Lydia embark on a, frankly fruitless, mission to locate the Nemeton, and hopefully the bodies of all the chimeras Parrish has taken.

(Maybe it’s a good thing that they can’t find it, can’t find out what Stiles has done)

Theo is still playing the good guy, the morally conflicted guy, the guy who trusts Scott to trust them, to trust Stiles. _I know he won't blame you_ , Theo says, like it’s that easy for Scott “I’m Gonna Save Everyone” McCall to accept that his best friend is a murderer. Stiles is a bit distracted by visions of himself in Donovan’s place to bother contradicting him.

Malia is getting more agitated with each new death, and Lydia won’t stay away from Parrish despite Stiles’ warnings of the danger he poses. The stress of everything is weighing him down, the only thing keeping him afloat the double buzz in his pocket signaling that Derek has texted him.

_Any updates?_

His timing is perfect as always. 

_theo wants to tell scott. he thinks hell be okay with it after what he did to corey_

_What do you think?_

_i think hes got an ulterior motive for telling him. he gains nothing from it. if anything hed lose some of scotts trust_

_Watch him. Don’t let him give Scott a different story._

Stiles doesn’t have much time to worry about what Scott would do if he found out, because, as it turns out when they meet at the animal clinic that night, he already has.

And he thinks Stiles didn’t try hard enough. That he’d had a choice.

And Stiles finally snaps, finally gives in and lets loose all the pent up emotion that he’s been suppressing more and more ever since Theo showed up all those weeks ago. Stiles gets angry.

“Guess what, all of us can’t be True Alphas! Some of us have to make mistakes, s _ome of us_ have to get our hands a little bloody sometimes! _Some of us are human!_ ”

His shouts echo through the lot, muffled by the rain. Scott’s expression doesn’t waver. He looks disappointed. Sad. Afraid. Like he doesn’t recognize Stiles anymore.

He still doesn’t believe him.

He begs, _just tell me how to fix this alright? Please just tell me what do you want me to do?_

Scott tells him to leave, to go back to his dad. And then he walks away.

~

_scott found out_

_i think he kicked me out of the pack_

_he doesnt trust me anymore_

_i dont know what to do_

~

Malia has to rescue him when the Jeep breaks down. Stiles knows, this time, that it’s gone for good; no amount of duct tape can fix everything that’s broken.

It’s an apt metaphor for his life at the moment.

He finds out that Malia knows about Donovan, has known for a while actually, but hasn’t said anything; it didn’t matter to her. Stiles feels bad that he’s been underestimating her, ignoring her, but maybe it’s for the best. It matters to him.

He waits at the station for ages, waits for his father. He never shows. Parrish does, body smoking, literal wispy tendrils of gray rising from his skin, and somehow Stiles manages to get the other deputies to let him go so he can follow him—to the impound lot apparently, where he takes two more bodies. _Great_.

Stiles knows that he and Scott aren’t exactly on good terms right now, but he needs to know about this, and that trumps whatever non-friendship they have at the moment. He doesn’t get to make the call though, he’s interrupted before he can, and he has never wanted to hit someone more than he wants to hit Theo Raeken in this moment.

Theo tells him that he has framed him, lied about what happened with Donovan to Scott and Stiles’ dad, and Stiles is abruptly terrified that Theo has done something to him, something bad, something that had kept him from coming to the station all day.

Theo keeps talking, his true colors shining through like a goddamn flare, and at last, _at fucking last_ , his plans are laid out for Stiles to see, the reason he came to Beacon Hills, the reason he has oh-so-subtly wormed his way into their lives.

He came to steal them, steal all of them, to make his own pack, one where he is the Alpha, with no Scott McCall in the picture to complicate things.

He wants Void. He wants what Stiles was when he was possessed, brutal and malicious. Powerful. 

(Sometimes, in moments like this, Stiles wonders if that violence was only ever the nogitsune, or if it was already a part of him, if it was still a part of him, waiting to be unleashed. Right now he feels it bubbling under the surface, ready to burst forth at the slightest provocation.)

“I'll tell you where your dad is, if you promise not to help Scott.”

Theo is knocked back with the force of Stiles punch, but he doesn’t go down, doesn’t get angry, doesn’t fight back. He laughs, triumphant, and crows his joy into the night, _there he is, it felt good didn’t it_ , eyes shining with sick pride at getting Stiles to react the way he wants.

As his fist slams into Theo’s jaw a second time, as he watches the bastard fall, _really_ fall this time, sliding across the gravel, Stiles thinks, grimly amused, about the irony of this, about how even now, probably not even intentionally this time, Theo is paralleling himself to Derek.

The only difference is that the few times Stiles had hit Derek it had been to save his life. All Stiles wants now is for Theo to go down and never get back up.

But he keeps fucking talking, still thinks he can, what, _recruit_ Stiles? Thinks that after all this Stiles would be willing to give up Scott, _his family_ , for power? The nogitsune had tried, had almost succeeded. Stiles will never let that happen again.

But then Theo says something, reminds him, and he’s right, he’s _right_ , oh god and _fuck,_ Stiles _hates_ him for putting him in this position, he hates him more than anything he’s ever known, but there’s really no choice here is there, and he needs to go _now_ , _he still has time_ —

~

He sits on the hard, uncomfortable hospital chair, hands clasped on the bed, and god he wishes he never had to hear the incessant beeping of the heart rate monitor ever again, but it’s the only sign he has right now that his dad is alive, has survived whatever the hell had happened to him in that house, and that’s all that really matters isn’t it, that his dad’s heart is still beating. Stiles can’t do anything but sit and wait for him to wake up, fill the silent minutes, curb his jittery nerves by texting Derek, updating him about everything that had happened, with Theo, with Scott.

Scott made it, he knows, knows because he had showed up at the hospital, tried to apologize, still injured from fighting Liam. Stiles had thrown him into a wall, still running on an adrenaline high from everything that had happened that night, fighting Theo, finding his dad beaten and broken in the Dread Doctors’ house, and he had yelled, shouted at Scott until he was hoarse, _where were you, Scott_ , until the nurses dragged him away. Stiles has never been this angry at Scott before, didn’t even know he was capable of it, but it’s all consuming. If only he had trusted him, if only he had _listened_ , Stiles’ dad wouldn’t be lying unconscious in a hospital bed.

On the table, his phone buzzes, two quick beats, and Stiles scoops it up, one hand reaching out to hold his dad’s as he unlocks the screen. Cora and Derek beam up at him, and he lets himself breath as he reads the simple text, the three words Derek has sent. He’s going to make it through this. He will.

_I’m coming home._

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not write a follow up to this depending on how I feel about 5B. Who knows?
> 
> Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated!  
> [tumblr](http://thelyssymarie.tumblr.com)


End file.
